Tapestry
by Apapazukamori
Summary: Six years' worth of parting never happened, but the wheels of fate still turn. [AU]
1. Chapter 1

**

Tapestry

**

Chapter One 

"Have a good day, Father!" The light, chirping voice that filled the oft-quiet Togakushi Shrine flew from the upstairs window, to the foyer and finally out the front door as its owner rushed to meet her waiting ride. Kotori Monou turned one more time to wave to her father before arranging herself on the back of her older brother's bicycle. Said brother favored her with a raised eyebrow. 

"You shouldn't run like that." Fuuma chided gently, waiting until she seated herself to kick off the ground and take off down the street. 

Kotori clung to Fuuma, making a face full of long-held exasperation, which he naturally couldn't see. "Oniichan, I'm fine!" She called, voice rising over the sound of the air and spinning spokes in their ears. 

Fuuma risked a look over his shoulder. "You're fine until you fall over." He said in his deep, normally calm voice. Kotori couldn't remember the last time she'd heard her brother yell. Fuuma was notorious for being untouchable. Some called him stoic; others called him an ice prince. Neither was true, of course, but only a few people knew that. Kotori knew her brother valued his self-control, but he was far from being unemotional. Their classmates simply didn't know how to look for it. 

At that precise moment, his features softened enough to suggest a smile. "You seem happy this morning." 

Kotori beamed, tightening her grip around his waist into a hug. "I am!" She cried, brushing her long hair back with one hand. "I had a dream last night." 

They flowed around a corner, the turn fast and steady, and Fuuma returned his gaze to the street. "Oh?" He asked, cautious. Kotori sometimes had terrible nightmares, ones that would wake her at any time of the night and bring her to tears. She saw some horrifying things in the dark of night, bloody images she didn't understand. "What was it about?" 

She smiled. "This one was a good dream," she said cheerfully, and saw the line of his shoulders relax. Fuuma worried about her, she knew. Probably more than he should, really. She was nearly sixteen, after all. Nightmares were only nightmares. They couldn't hurt her when she was awake. "I dreamed about---" She cut off abruptly as a figure on the corner ahead of them came into view. "Kamui-chan!!" 

The figure, slowly coming into focus in the form of a boy with dusky brown hair, raised a hand and waved as they approached. Kotori watched him run the last few feet to the corner. His face, split in a wide smile that made her heart skip a beat, began to shift into one of indignation as her brother seemed to have no intention of slowing down. As they zoomed past their friend, the expression turned to one of challenge and he took off, sprinting after them, shouting something at Fuuma. The older boy snorted softly and pretended not to hear. 

Shortly, they arrived within view of the school gates, and the groups of students grew more numerous. Many of them cheered as they went past, and looking to her right, over her shoulder, she saw why. Kamui was right next to her, running at top speed to catch up. He chanced a look her way and grinned widely before snapping back into concentration. 

"How close is he?" 

"Shirou-san! Ganbatte!" 

"Forget it, man. Monou's still faster." 

"'Course he is, idiot! He's got the _bike!_" 

Kotori laughed as the three of them finally pulled into the schoolyard and Fuuma slowed the bicycle to a stop. Kamui stumbled to a halt beside them, giving Fuuma a half-hearted shove as he bent over to catch his breath. "You... not fair..." 

Fuuma dismounted, smirking as he locked the tire to a fence just outside the building. "I thought we were running late," he replied simply, the smirk falling from his mouth but remaining in his amber colored eyes. He pointed up to the clock on the front of the school. The hands were five minutes away from the opening bell. "Looks like we're right on time." 

One of their classmates ran by, slapping Kamui on the back as he headed inside. "Nice try, Shirou," he called. "You'll get him next time!" 

Kamui raised his head enough to scowl at the third-year before resuming his gasps for breath. Kotori giggled behind her hands. Her brother and Kamui had been competing this way since the beginning of the year. She had to admit, in almost a month of racing Fuuma's bike, Kamui had become much faster. She didn't have a clue as to what had started it; she only remembered on the first day of school, Fuuma had refused to slow down to match Kamui's walking pace. Instead of being left behind, Kamui had run after them. The two of them had done so ever since, testing each other two or three times a week. 

Their races were one of the more popular topics among their schoolmates; Kotori had heard that some of the students had set up a pool and were gambling on which day Kamui would finally beat Fuuma. 

Personally, Kotori was waiting for the day when Fuuma would intentionally slow down and let Kamui win. 

---+---

As usual, Fuuma walked them to their classroom, steadfastly refusing to acknowledge the pack of giggling first and second year girls that his presence never failed to gather. However, some of them had begun to accept her older brother's distance and were setting their sights on someone who couldn't ignore them as easily and -- even better -- blushed more quickly than Fuuma ever did. Kotori walked between the two most gossiped about boys in the school and didn't mind in the least that she wasn't the focus of attention. She had her days, few and far between, when a boy sought her out or called to her. Said boys were met with a dark look from her brother as her best friend shifted into the line of vision as if to make her invisible to the offender. Her self-appointed bodyguards protected her and loved her at a level few could match. 

And recently, she'd begun to think that... just maybe... she was beginning to love them differently. 

The trio paused in front of the first-years' classroom and Fuuma ruffled her hair gently, glancing over her head at Kamui. "Lunch outside today?" The violet eyed boy just grinned and nodded, sliding the door open that separated the two younger students from their daily grind. Another routine which had started up this year; making exceptions for Fuuma's kendo practice, Kamui's swim meets and Kotori's doctor visits, the three of them were rarely seen apart. Kotori had managed to make a small group of friends for herself and sometimes spent time with them, but the boys remained surprisingly solitary. Though none of them had actually demanded that they eat lunch together every afternoon, it had begun to work out that way. 

Fuuma waved to the pair as they ducked into the classroom with thirty seconds to spare and then turned to jog up one flight to his own class. Neither had much time for conversation with each other or their classmates before the bell ring, signaling the start of another day. 

---+---

_"Where are you going?" _

Tooru turned, violet eyes flashing with barely restrained anger. "None of your business," she snapped, tucking a child's suitcase under her arm as she tugged her tearful son by the hand. The little boy burst into a fresh round of crying when he caught sight of his friends. Her heart ached for him, but her exasperation trumped all her pity. 

He folded his arms; his bearing resembled nothing of the soft-spoken and gentle man Saya had so often written about. "Did you think you were going to sneak out without an explanation?" Nothing like him. And she refused to be out-muled by the man who, as far as she was concerned, was partially responsible for her grief. It had been his family that had taken her most important person. Had led them apart... had helped to kill her. 

She glared at him, her voice hanging on the air like frost. "What I do has nothing to do with you, Kyougo-san." Her grip tightened on her son's hand. "I can't stay here." 

His expression softened minutely, but he didn't move from the gate's entrance. He and his... her_... children stood in her way. Such beautiful babies, bearing so much resemblance to the woman she had lost that it broke her heart. Especially Kotori, who clung to her older brother as she turned red-rimmed eyes at Kamui. Kotori had her mother's eyes. Fuuma had her gentle strength. _

She couldn't stand to look at them. "Please, Kyougo-san," she pleaded softly. "Let us go." 

"I know you're grieving, Magami-san." More and more, he seemed to become the man she had spoken of. "And I'm sorry you are in such pain. But think of your son," he pressed forward in her moment of weakness, seeing her waver as her memories assaulted her from all sides. Damn him. "Think of hers." 

She let go of Kamui's hand to wipe at her eyes. "They'd be better off this way..." There was time, time to forget childhood friendships. Time to forget promises and whittle away at bonds. As painful as her grief was, she had no desire to see it in the eyes of either boy. 

Kamui hovered at her side nervously, looking from her to his friends, back to her, back to them. His gaze lingered longer on them than it did her. 

Kyougo shook his head sadly. "Magami-san... you know they won't forget." 

"I'll **never** forget Kamui-chan," Kotori shouted from behind her brother, her little cherubic face scrunched up with fierce determination. Her eyes stared up at her through her daughter. 

"Me neither," her brother's calmer voice piped up, his gaze directed solely at her son. Kamui took that moment to make his own decision and ran to his friends, whose hands he clutched at as he looked hopefully back at her. 

Turning her back on all of them, she took the suitcases back inside. 


	2. Chapter 2

**

Tapestry

**

Chapter Two 

By the time Fuuma handed his homework back, it looked as if someone had been gutted over it. Eyeing his friend warily, for the moment ignoring the corrections in favor of propping his chin up on his hand and his hand on the low table, he schooled his face into what he hoped was something chiding. "I think you have too much fun with that pen..." 

Unable to help herself, Kotori giggled, though she had the good grace to try and hide it behind her hands. The subject of his ire just raised an eyebrow, his eyes glimmering in a way that could very well imply that he agreed. Sighing heavily, Kamui finally began to look at the paper in front of him. Long years of practice had taught him to make multiple copies of his worksheets on days that he studied at the Monou household. Invariably, Fuuma would make him do it again. He couldn't blame the older boy for it, he'd asked for the help, after all. His mother would kill him if he failed Calculus again. 

A month into the new term, and it looked as if he would, at that. "I am never going to use this," he groused as he pulled out a fresh copy of the assignment. He shot Fuuma a challenging look. Everything between them recently had become competitive; neither of them could say a word without the other putting in his two cents. In a way, it was great. He hadn't known Fuuma could be that stubborn. Proof that seven years of friendship hadn't revealed everything. "When am I ever going to use this?" 

The other had to think about it a minute before shrugging. "In third-year math," he replied simply. 

Kamui made a loud noise of frustration and threw the exceedingly red paper at him; that set Kotori off again, laughing so hard her frail shoulders shook. He felt a bit of his irritation ebb as his face set into something fond. Really, he should be worried about exciting her. None of them really knew what caused her heart trouble, so they were often overly careful. But it was nice to see her laugh. He caught Fuuma watching him as he glanced back across the table and received a slight smile when their eyes met. 

Kotori's laughter calmed after a few moments, long enough to hear the distinct hiccup which set off another burst of giggling. Even her brother's subtle mask fell as he joined in. Kamui tossed his pencil down onto the table and climbed to his feet. "I'm going to get something to drink," he managed, snickering all the way to the kitchen. He grabbed a well-used tray and some glasses, poking around in the refrigerator for the orange juice they always had in there. He probably could recite the contents of the fridge from memory, and he did make a note to add milk to the shopping list because they were getting low. Sometimes he considered the Togakushi Shrine to be more of his home than his own; after moving to Tokyo years ago, he'd probably spent more time there than anywhere else. For his birthday one year, they had jokingly given him his very own futon and designated that the spot directly next to Fuuma's bed as his. 

He grabbed a chair and used it to gain an extra meter in order to scrounge for some kind of snack. Fuuma liked crackers but Kotori preferred something sweeter; Kamui himself had no problem with either and generally ate what was put in front of him. His fingers had just brushed the cellophane wrapper of something promising when he heard the angry rise of a woman's voice coming from another room. The surprise nearly made him topple off the chair. His mother's voice was often chilly, but she rarely yelled. For a moment, he held his breath and just listened. He heard the murmur of his uncle's voice as he probably tried to calm her down. 

"It's not up for discussion," she snapped in reply, and Kamui winced. He'd heard those words more than once, more often of late, when he'd wanted to do something she'd been totally opposed to. Being careful to remain absolutely quiet, he climbed down off the chair and moved closer to the kitchen's other door in order to hear more clearly. 

"... gain nothing from leaving him in the dark, Magami-san." 

Even after seven years, Uncle Kyougo still called his mother by her last name. He'd asked when he was younger, why they seemed to be so distant with each other when he was practically family. He noticed that it had begun after Aunt Saya died, but he'd never been given a clear answer. 

"How can you tell me that when you're doing the same?" Tooru's voice approached a shrill pitch that actually scared him. He'd never heard his mother lose control like this before. "I've noticed you've said nothing about what's going to happen either, and you're so close to him, aren't you?" A cold lump settled in his stomach as he took a step back from the door. They were talking about him. He was certain of it, though he didn't exactly know why. Curiosity gnawed at him, but the sense of dread was just as strong. He probably didn't want to know what they hadn't told him. It could be any number of things. Bizarrely, the first thing that came to mind was that he was really a Monou and because of some illicit affair, no one had told him. 

He knocked into a chair and swore under his breath as it toppled to the floor, halting all conversation from the other room. He cursed a little louder when the door slid open. Uncle Kyougo was not a young man, but that night he looked very, very old. Still, as he always did in his "nephew's" presence, he smiled gently. "Come in, Kamui," he said as he pushed the door open further. "We were just talking about you." 

Cringing, the boy stepped into the room and glanced at his mother as if to apologize. Despite her earlier outburst, she didn't look angry. She looked like Uncle Kyougo -- tired, older. And she looked afraid. Kamui fidgeted until she gestured for him to sit, sighing as she did. "I'm sorry you overheard, Kamui-chan." She and Kotori used the same nickname with him, but from his mother the affection always sounded a shade less sincere. To his surprise, she took his hand and held it tightly, her other hand reaching up to press against his cheek. The cold lump melted instantly into hot, twisting fear and he regretted eavesdropping with every thread of his being. 

"Kamui-chan," his mother began. "I'm going to die." 

---+--- 

Papers shifted restlessly against one another, conveying the feelings of the girl who held them more eloquently than words. However, she did try. "He's taking a long time in there..." 

Fuuma glanced up at his sister, his pen stilling in the middle of a complicated kanji. "I'm sure he's just trying to get out of doing his homework," he said with a smirk. "I wouldn't worry." 

Kotori smiled a little, her own expression turning wry. "I think he's hiding from you, Oniichan," she giggled and Fuuma laughed with her, though he thought it felt a bit forced. Even if only a joke, he didn't like the idea. It didn't fit in with how things should be if Kamui felt the need to actively avoid him. 

Suddenly the shoji between the kitchen and living room slid open with a bang, the frame rattled on the wooden rails. Aunt Tooru hurried through the doorway, giving the siblings a tight-lipped smile as she headed toward the foyer. Kotori had risen halfway from the table, and called a confused farewell to the dark-haired woman. Her gaze met Fuuma's and he saw his own confusion mirrored in her eyes. Fuuma got to his feet; he knew his father was somewhere downstairs, maybe he could tell them what happened. He had taken two steps before bumping into a pale, wide-eyed Kamui. 

"Kamui?" Fuuma held him by the shoulders. "What happened?" 

Kamui's eyes met his and despite their years of friendship, even Fuuma couldn't translate all the emotions he saw. He felt a hand on his forearm and Kamui looked about to say something, but then abruptly stepped back. The smaller boy rubbed the back of his neck and waved dismissively with his free hand. "N...nothing, Fuuma," he replied, and Fuuma's frown deepened at the shaky tone of his voice. 

"Kamui-chan?" 

Both boys turned toward Kotori, whose blue eyes had begun to fill with tears. Kamui swallowed and tried to smile at her. "It's all right, Kotori-chan." He stepped away from Fuuma and began to pack up his book bag. "I've got to go home now, but I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" Though Kamui was speaking to his sister, Fuuma nodded as well, mechanically. The younger boy wasn't meeting either of their eyes now. 

"Bye," Kamui called as he hurried to follow his mother. 

---+---

_"Oh, Tooru, he's beautiful," Saya breathed, watching their children play together in the other room. She closed the shoji carefully, leaving only a hand's width of space open. Neither mother worried about leaving the trio alone; Fuuma would take care of the younger two. Saya turned back to the other woman and toyed with a long, curly lock of her brown hair. "He looks just like you." _

Tooru's gaze flicked from those long fingers to Saya's blue eyes, and she smiled back; giddiness forced the smile wider and shyer than she'd intended it to be. Of course, her emotions rarely stayed under her control when Saya was around. "But look at you," she replied, voice not quite a whisper. "Two of your own." The prophecies had decreed as much, but actually seeing Saya's children was quite something else. If anything, motherhood had made the blonde lovelier. Or maybe that was absence. 

A playful wink. "Now you'll think I'm old." 

"What? Never! I was just thinking you--" 

One cool, petal-soft finger pressed against her lips. Tooru felt a gentle tug as Saya wound the lock of hair more securely around her fingers, and drew in a soft breath. As much power as Magami Tooru possessed, she had none when it came to the woman standing before her. Her throat tightened painfully, aware of the delight and the anguish in that knowledge. 

Saya slowly pulled her finger away; her eyes danced as she leaned forward. "I missed you so much," she whispered, and the lump in Tooru's throat eased as she closed her eyes. 

"Mama?" 

The women leaned back quickly, both looking down at Kamui. Tooru felt her face grow warm, but beside her, Saya smiled easily and crouched down to his eye level. "What is it, darling?" Kamui looked at his mother questioningly before replying to Saya. 

"Kotori-chan and Fuuma want to go outside and play," he murmured to his feet. "May I go too?" 

Saya glanced up at Tooru and laughed, then touched Kamui's cheek and nodded. "Of course you may. All of you get your coats and we'll go outside." 

As the little boy ran back to tell his companions, Tooru felt Saya squeeze her hand. 


End file.
